


who are you supposed to be?

by kennysspace



Series: almost paradise - part two [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:10:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21809296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kennysspace/pseuds/kennysspace
Summary: almost paradise: part two - chapter two of fifteentensions are high, and you really wish steve hadn't convinced you to come to tina's party.
Relationships: Steve Harrington/Henderson Reader, Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler, Steve Harrington/Reader, Steve Harrington/You
Series: almost paradise - part two [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571503
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	who are you supposed to be?

this is also being updated to my tumblr. you can find it [here](yelennabelova.tumblr.com)

* * *

“Steve, come on! You gotta take this seriously!”

“I am! But none of this makes any goddamn sense!”

Your eyes roll at Steve’s comment, your quiet voices are just barely over a whisper. They don’t register to anyone else in the library other than the two of you. 

“What happens if you start failing Calc, huh? What are you gonna do then?” You question before blowing a strand of hair from your forehead, watching him intently for a reaction.

His grades have been better since meeting you. Your motivation and almost unrelenting work ethic sparked something similar in him. Not to the same extent, but you’ve given him the drive and the support to go after a future after high school. You always tell him that it’s not as far off as he thinks, that a spot in a college isn’t as difficult to obtain as he always thought.

Steve shrugs before leaning back in his chair, tossing his arm over the back, “Easy. Get you to bail me out.”

“Nice try, Harrington,” You quip as you return your focus to your notes - Steve always says they’re practically unreadable, “That’s not gonna happen.”

“I could bribe you.”

You snort, gaze briefly flicking up to where he sits across from you; his smirk causes a rush of endorphins to flow through your veins. Your pencil scribbles against the paper as you respond, “There’s not enough money in the world to get me to do your homework for you. That wouldn’t help either of us.”

“I’ve got a trust fund that says otherwise.”

“ _ Steven _ !” You raise your volume unintentionally at what he implies; a group huddled at by one of the nearby tables turns to you in annoyance. Steve laughs at your misfortune and the following blush that rapidly spreads over your cheeks. 

“Yeah, you’re only keepin’ me around just in case,” You joke as your hand gestures between the two of you, your voice softening back to its original tone. Your words hold a hint of fear and anxiety in them, as if maybe it’s a possibility, regardless of how close you’ve grown. 

“Oh come on, I’m kidding!” He says quickly before fiddling with the collar on his vest, and he earns a roll of your eyes before comforting you, drawing your mind away from the insecurity, “No way is that true. You know it’s not like that.”

Yeah,  _ it’s not _ . 

Your attention doesn’t move from your work at his response, hating how your brain twists his words into something else entirely. You unfortunately don’t get to escape those thoughts - Nancy’s bag is placed onto the table and Steve’s arm is around her shoulders before you can even process it.

This feeling - you absolutely despise it. You lose your focus on the problem in front of you, eyes practically glazed over with a kind of mutated version of envy; you try and figure it out for the sixth time as a distraction. 

It’s too painful. He’s trying desperately to make her laugh, get her to shine a brilliant smile in his direction - the kind that makes him feel like his heart could give out. The kind that she doesn’t give as much anymore. 

Not that Steve notices that. But you always do.

All Nancy can muster in response is a light hum and a nod of the head. Her lips are tightly pressed together, with just the corners tilted slightly up; her demeanor is still weighted, regardless of the facade she’s able to trick him with.

Steve’s too blind to be able to notice. He loves her too much.

He’s too blind to be able to notice  _ you _ . 

And you’re sick of it.

Abruptly, you close the notebook and shove it straight into your backpack; you don’t particularly care that the cardboard bends against the other books in your possession.

“Woah, hey-” Steve finally manages to reach your ears once you’ve slung the pack over your shoulder, gaze still cast downwards and away from them - you’d feel worse if you caught a glimpse, “Where you goin’?”

Your throat closes up once you realize that you have no answer. You lie.

“Out.”

Steve’s brow furrows, “Out?”

“Yep,” You wrap your fingers around the strap, voice almost quivering. He persists, concern growing over his face at your curt responses, “Why?”

“I just need some fresh air, you know, good for the brain or whatever.”

Steve scoffs lightly. His expression instantly relaxes at your excuse, and you can’t believe he buys it, “Of course, duh.”

You force a laugh from your mouth, hoping that it distracts from the way your gaze softens as it finally lands on him. Your chest aches at the grin that spreads over his lips, and you subconsciously mirror it - it happens out of your control.

“See you tonight? Around seven, yeah?” Steve asks, inquiring about Tina’s Halloween bash. Your eyes travel over to Nancy briefly, and she just so happens to turn her head at the same moment, leading to an instance where you stare directly at the other.

It makes your skin erupt in goosebumps, and tears burn behind your lids. It’s like she’s completely forgotten who she once was to you.

“Yeah,” You say quietly after dragging your eyes from Nancy before beginning to walk off, blinking rapidly to stop your tears from forming even further, “See you then.”

* * *

You think that Steve’s going to be the death of you.

It’s been a year and you don’t know how much more of this you’ll be able to take, just teetering on the edge of collapse.

Your eyes are still brimming with tears when you push your body against the exit doors, but you don’t dare let them fall. You’ve only got one person in mind as you scan the parking lot.

Jonathan’s at the picnic table he parks himself at during free period, and by the way you plop yourself down next to him, he instantly knows what this is about.

You and Jonathan have never talked about your feelings before. There’s just this mutual instinct between the two of you - you know he loves Nancy and he knows you love Steve. It’s an unspoken bond that connects you both, the pain and turmoil of watching them slowly crash and burn unites you in sorrow.

“I don’t know how much more of this I can handle,” You mutter, keeping your voice low as to not attract any attention from the other students milling around.

Jonathan doesn’t look up from the pages in front of him; he only clutches his pencil tighter between his fingers, “How’d you mean?”

“Them,” You lean your forehead against your palm, “I can’t watch them anymore. It’s too much.”

Jonathan knows exactly what you’re referring to; he’s begun to notice some of the signs too. Nancy always seems a bit deflated when Steve’s around, like she’s not herself.

“There’s nothing we can do about it,” He responds, glancing your way for second, “It’s not our place.”

“I know that, Jonathan,” Your hair blows in the breeze as you contemplate how to respond, “I wasn’t suggesting that we do anything about it, I-“

You shudder at the thought that pops into your head, muscles contracting to form your hand into a fist, “I just wish that it could be me instead.”

A tear falls onto your cheek as your words settle into the air. That’s the first time it’s been spoken - the first time you’ve admitted to someone other than yourself that Steve has your heart in his hands. 

Jonathan just nods as you silently cry by his side, his jaw clenching before he speaks, “I know. It hurts like hell.” 

You wipe away the tears from your face as you turn slightly to him, “Seeing them together isn’t even the worst part.” 

Jonathan frowns at what you imply, waiting patiently for you to continue your thought, “What’s worse than that?”

You swallow the lump that formed in your throat as your eyes meet, and Jonathan’s chest aches a touch at the pain you hide behind your irises. He can see all of your emotions brewing in agony, swimming just below the surface; you’re about to overflow.

“Imagining it is worse. Because eventually, when you realize that this… _ stupid _ fantasy you’ve created isn’t real?”

You apprehensively pull your sight away from him - you don’t think you can look while you say this, “That’s the pain that never goes away.”

* * *

You don’t know why you’re here - it’s far too loud and far too packed. Someone in a football jersey nearly slams into you after you manage to weasel your way through the door. You almost take that as a sign that you should get out of here while you have the chance.

You’re about to turn around and head back home, making a promise to sneak some of Dustin’s candy when he returns, until Steve’s eyes meet yours from across the room and he motions you over. 

Oh,  _ right.  _ That’s why.

After finally making your way over to him, Steve greets you with a large smile, “Hey, you made it!” 

He looks you over once to get a glimpse of your costume and his face contorts in confusion after he doesn’t recognize it, “Uh, who are you supposed to be?”

You glance down briefly, “Han Solo.”

Steve’s expression doesn’t change as he fiddles with the black sunglasses between his fingers, and you raise your brows at him, “You know, Star Wars?”

“You think I would know that?”

“We watched the movies together!” You raise your voice just a touch louder to express your annoyance, “All three of ‘em!”

Steve only scoffs as he scans the sea of people in front of you, concern creasing his forehead. You match his emotion, wondering what it could be that has him so worried.

“Something wrong?” You ask as you follow where his gaze goes, and he replies without turning to face you, “I just - I’ve barely seen Nancy all night. She gets two drinks in her system and runs off.” 

You can only bring yourself to hum in response, secretly hating how much he still cares for her. Especially when he can’t see the signs himself.

Watching Nancy slowly pull away from him over the past couple of months has started taking its toll on you - you almost can’t bear to be near him. It’s absolutely overwhelming.

Your train of thought gets derailed by the shouts of an approaching group, and you lean into Steve’s arm a bit at the sight of them, silently offering him your support once you realize who it is.

“Look who it is - Harrington and Henderson, the dynamic duo,” Tommy says rather harshly as he strolls up to the two of you, adjusting the bandana he wears before swirling the contents of his red cup.

He slaps the back of the boy who stands to his left, and you’d recognize that type of smirk anywhere, “We’ve got ourselves a new keg king. Billy Hargrove here beat your record by a mile.”

You look over to Steve and notice his jaw tense as Billy steps up to square off; the cigarette between his lips pulses orange as he inhales and puffs the smoke in Steve’s direction. He coughs as it hits his face before turning away and you cringe at Steve’s expense, sighing at the stupid sign of dominance - and the other boy hasn’t even spoken a word.

Billy laughs as he turns back to Tommy, a grin spread over his face, “You weren’t kiddin’ with this one, King of Hawkins my ass.”

You roll your eyes and scoff at his comment, sick and tired of people comparing Steve to the previous iteration of himself, especially when he’s become so much more than the stupid high school cliches.

Billy’s attention switches to you at your disapproval of his words, his eyes squint slightly as he takes you in - your posture, how your wandering gaze softens when you land on Steve, the way you’re leaning against him - it brings a strange twinkle to his eye.

He takes a particularly long drag of the cigarette as he scans over your body and his mouth twists to smirk again, “Nice costume, Han Solo right?” 

You clear your throat and shift your weight over your feet, heat rising to your cheeks at the way he practically studies you. You don’t want to give him the gratification of hearing you speak, but it only makes you look more timid and affected by his presence when you only muster a nod.

Billy licks his lips as he exhales, making sure to move the smoke away from you. He rather enjoys the reaction he’s able to pull.

He takes one last puff from the cigarette and throws it to the floor by your feet. You hate the way your hair stands on end as he angles himself to be ever so slightly closer, and you’re practically able to smell the booze as if it radiated from him. With his boot, he snuffs out the dimming light of the bud; his eyes never leave yours.

Billy finally turns back to Steve, lips quirking up once he notices your friend’s annoyance with your treatment, “Cute friend, Harrington.” He tilts his head, shooting a wink and a crooked smile your way, “See you later, sweetheart.” 

Your chest heaves as you let out a breath you didn’t know you were keeping in as you and Steve watch Billy move back into the crowd, practically engulfed by the other partying teens. 

“What’s with him?” You ask, voice quivering slightly at the encounter.

Steve sighs as he allows himself to calm down; your presence helps the process a touch, “If he’s after my old spot, he can have it. God knows I don’t need that shit anymore.”

He turns his head to you, “He bothers you, you lemme know - I’ll kick his ass.” 

You heart swells at his words but you push down the reaction before it can manifest itself. The thought of Steve stepping up to protect you makes your brain foggy and body unsteady; instead, you offer him a snarky glance and a comment dripped in sarcasm, “Alright,  _ sure _ . I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Oh come on, don’t give me that tone - I’d do it, you know,” Steve says back, unimpressed with your lack of faith in him, regardless if it’s a sham. His voice lowers and it grows a bit more sincere, “Somebody’s gotta look out for you.”

While trying desperately to forget the fact that he just said he’d be willing to defend you, you open your mouth to respond but he raises a finger before you can. 

“If you say anything about those kids-”

“Listen, I hear Lucas is a crack shot with that Wrist Rocket of his.”

Steve just rolls his eyes at your answer, earning a laugh from you, which he now considers to be one of the highest compliments he could ever receive. It’s music to his ears.

You brush a piece of hair back behind your ear as you spot the table that’s almost covered in plastic red cups, “Alright, come on Rocky, let’s get me a drink.”

* * *

The walls shake from the speakers, the bass line echoes through your ears and the plates rattle in the cupboards. You’re thankful that whoever curated the tracks for tonight picked some good hits. Perhaps it’s the only decent thing about being here. 

You had opted for a couple of beers, enough to give you a buzz but not to completely inebriate yourself. Although it’s still not enough to make you enjoy Nancy’s company; there just isn’t enough alcohol in the world. 

She dragged Steve onto the dance floor two songs ago after downing another cup of that disgusting beverage, much to his protests. But with that smile flashed in his direction and the rhythm pulsing through her veins - how could he say no?

Your teeth bite down on the edge of the cup that rests in your grasp as you watch them; you haven’t been able to take your eyes away, no matter how hard your brain tells you to. The corner of your lips tilts upwards at the sight of the grin on his face as bops along to the music with those  _ stupid _ sunglasses placed on the bridge of his nose. 

And then, all of a sudden, the feeling of nausea hits you, and you’re not sure if it’s from the drinks you’ve had - or if it’s from the way he pulls her in, one hand in her hair, one on her back.

You can barely comprehend the fact that you’re moving, pushing through to get past the screen door and outside as you’re desperate to get some fresh air. The green haze that usually clouds your vision at the sight of her is magnified to a degree that overwhelms your senses, and it only dissipates slightly at the feeling of the cool October air hitting your skin.

The image of them - it’s as if it’s been burned into the back of your eyelids. No matter how many times you blink, how many times you press the heel of your palms against your eyes, you can’t escape it. 

Everything’s been building to this night, this party - this moment. It was only a matter of time before the tower that’s struggling to hold you up came crashing down, and right now it’s just about to fall.

You were never going to be able to keep this up forever, you know that. These dumb feelings you caught a hold of and never let go have brought you nothing but pain. Steve’s friendship has been the most important part of your life, as he’s truly amazing with all the walls broken down - but he’s got you wrapped around his finger.

Was all of that worth the agony of being witness to their relationship? 

You don’t think so. At least not anymore.

You don’t know how long you’ve been standing here, eyes covered by your hands, with the breeze flowing through the air. You swallow the lump in your throat as your hands get dragged through your hair, mind lost in thought.

You have to go back inside some time, realizing that if you’re going to leave, you should at least tell Steve. He’d worry incessantly if you didn’t. You just want to go home and hear about the boys’ adventures trick-or-treating; you’ve decided you’ll never forgive yourself for missing, all just for this.

As soon as you muster up the courage to cross back inside, someone almost trips over you, stumbling over their own feet.

“Woah, hey-” Nancy slurs, gesturing at you with the cup in her hand, “Watch it, I’m walking here - hello!” You sigh as you watch her chug another helping of the vile red drink before looking out over the crowd, with Steve nowhere in sight.

You mentally kick yourself for what you’re about to do. You have a feeling you’re going to regret this.

“Alright, Jesus Christ, Nancy-” You wrestle the plastic from her vice grip and she wipes away the excess with the back of her hand, “How many of these have you had?”

“You can’t tell anybody this,” She smirks and leans closer to you, her lips practically landing on your ear and she giggles, “I don’t know, I don’t know how many!”

“Okay, come on,” You grab her by the arm and she follows behind you, “Where are we going?”

“We gotta get you to Steve, okay? You’ve probably got alcohol poisoning, you can barely stand.”

“No!” Nancy protests as she pulls on your jacket to stop you, “No, I don’t wanna go to Steve, in fact I don’t want to you either.”

“What are you talking about? Of course we’ve gotta get you to him-”

“No, I want you to leave him alone,” Her order makes you spin around, and she finally wrestles herself away. Her arms fold over her chest, “I don’t want you to talk to him.”

“You’ve lost your goddamn mind,” You scoff at her, moving closer to grab her again. She violently shakes her head and she takes a deep breath. The words just tumble right out in her drunken haze.

“I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

It hits you like a punch. 

Your heart rate skyrockets, jaw drops, stomach flips, eyes widen - everything happens all at once. 

Nancy pushes you away with just her index finger pressed harshly into your sternum, and in your shocked state - you let her.

“What did you say?” You mutter after you stagger backwards, and it’s completely inaudible to everyone around you. That was meant just for her. 

Nancy doesn’t respond, and it makes you furious. After everything she’s done to you, she can’t even answer the one question you’ve had for her in the three years it’s been since you were friends. 

You huff before you repeat yourself, “What did you say, Nancy?” 

Of course, you know what she said. It’s just so unbelievable that you need to hear it straight from her again.

You thought that you were so careful as to not let your feelings for Steve be shown outwards; no matter how much you wanted to just let it envelop you, let your smile beam at him when he did something you loved. You always just wanted to let  _ everything _ about him swallow you whole, and you never could. 

Nancy refuses to answer you. You don’t see green when you look at her anymore - all it is now is red.

And that’s all it takes. The final push.

Your fingers wrap around her wrist and you pull, dragging her behind you and down the hall. Your mind is blank except for rage that’s been slowly boiling over the past few months - you can’t even hear her fighting against you.

You practically throw her into the closet and you slam the door as soon as you’re in.

“What the hell, Y/N? What’s the matter with you?” Nancy says as she raises her voice, shoving your shoulder as you turn around to face her.

“What the hell’s the matter with me? What’s the matter with you? What could I have  _ ever  _ done to deserve this?” You shout back even though you’re barely two feet apart. 

It’s all bubbling up now, everything that you kept inside for far too long. And not just what’s been brewing since November - everything from the past few years. All of it.

“You tossed me aside like some kind of useless piece of trash! All I ever did was be a good friend! I was there for you! And I guess I still am!” Your hands are gesturing wildly now, not knowing what to do with them when you’re like this. You hate it, but there’s no stopping it now.

“And then, Jesus - after that fucking mess last year? With Will?” You laugh at the insanity of it all, “I watch the only guy I’ve ever given a shit about fall for you. Of all people he could’ve been with, it had to be  _ you _ . Nancy Wheeler, my ex best friend who I don’t think ever cared about me. And fuck-”

The hot tears spill past your eyelashes and onto your cheeks at the mention of Steve; the boy that you’ve come to admit that even though you’re best friends, you fell hopelessly and ridiculously in love with him. 

And it hurts too much to be standing here in front of her, knowing that the only reason you’re spilling all of this is because you’ve got alcohol in your bloodstream, and it only makes you more angry at her.

“Fuck, Nancy! I don’t think that you ever cared about me, but Steve? The way you’ve treated him? I know that he’s so head over heels for you and he’s clueless, but I’m not.”

Nancy can’t bring herself to do anything but listen, but her internal anger is starting to match yours.

“You’ve been pulling away from him for so long and God, it hurts. It hurts to watch Steve be completely oblivious to the fact that you actually like Jonathan more than him. I mean, Jesus-” You pause for a second to catch your breath and to push your hair back from your face, “You don’t fucking deserve him!”

“Well, congratulations!” Nancy finally spits out as she interrupts you, “Congratulations, you’ve solved it! I never loved Steve, is that what you wanted? You’ve just wanted him to yourself, well here you go! I guess neither one of us are idiots, I figured out your secret and you got mine!”

You shut up at her revelation; it suddenly and completely sobers you.

You have always had your suspicions about her true feelings - that Steve’s affection was only a joke to her, or that maybe the passion has just vanished. You always wondered if she might eventually throw him away like she did you, but you never expected it to be  _ true _ .

Maybe you thought too much of her.

“Y-You’ve-” Your voice quiets and softens, your mouth struggles to catch up with your mind as it spins relentlessly, “You’ve never loved him? After all this time?”

Nancy can’t bring it in herself to continue as shame starts to spread through her mind - you weren’t supposed to know that. Nobody was.

“How long were you planning on leading him on like this? What, just so you could pretend that everything was okay?” You go on, tears still streaming down your face, pooling at your chin and eventually dropping onto the hardwood beneath your feet.

Nancy’s jaw tenses at your questions and she folds her arms, looking down at the small puddle your tears have made on the floor. Countless seconds pass as the two of you think, heads swimming with the overload of information. Hopefully the thumping music covered your shouts.

“Did you ever stop to think what this would do to him?”

Nancy’s eyes flick up to yours for a split second. They’re filled with nothing but shame.

A deep breath gets forced through your nose before your fingers wipe away the mess, and they move to the door handle once it’s clear that she’s not going to tell you.

You swallow the lump in your throat as you spin to unlock the door, but you turn back around quickly before you do, “Everything’s just a bunch of  _ bullshit  _ with you, isn’t it?”

Nancy finally moves, and she pulls you away before fiddling with the knob herself - she fails at opening it twice.

“I need another drink,” She mutters once it’s swung open, and in her bitterness, she moves you aside hard enough for your back to thump against the wall, and she closes the door after she exits. Empty clothing hangers rattle with the force.

A sob crawls its way up your throat as everything starts to settle, your mouth becomes covered by your palms to silence the noise. 

A whole year has gone by. He’s loved her for almost 365 days, twelve months, countless hours, and she never felt the same way. Not even for a second. All of that time was wasted and Steve doesn’t even know.

He deserves to, though. Of course he does.

He needs to know that his girlfriend doesn’t feel the same way about him. But it shouldn’t come from you, and you don’t think you’d be able to take the look on his face if you did.

You feel sick.


End file.
